This post is entered in #FantasySmutFriday competition on Forbidden Writings: https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/71743499/posts/2932128275 Week (72) – 9/29/2020
As the sun began to rise, I suddenly remembered why I left the blinds open the night before. Laying next to me was my latest escape. I think his name was Tom, but it could have been Ted. Honestly, I didn’t bother to remember it because I thought this one night stand would end with him leaving in the middle of the night. It wasn’t that I didn’t care for him. I’m not too fond of the early morning awkward goodbye. Something about this man made me want a little breakfast in bed.
As he slept, the outline under the sheet gave me a little hope that he would be dining in as well. His body defined underneath the now ruffled fabric, it was his midsection that caught my attention. Thick, long, and I could even see the large mushroom head of his cock. God, coffee is excellent in the morning, but cock is fantastic.
I traced my finger around his manhood, well, not touching him, but my finger moved as though I was a phantom ghost. Perched on my side, part of the sheet covering my bottom leg, it took all my self-control not to slide over and on while he slept. I was trying so hard not to be rude, but I have never been a sensible woman. Not when it came to men, at least. As much as I wanted him, I allowed this God of a man to sleep in my bed. That right, he would never know he was the first to last all night.
Rolling to my back, my hands refused to obey my mind. I brushed the tips of my fingers over my breasts. My nipples hardened almost immediately. I felt like a naughty teen who was about to get caught touching herself. What if he woke and saw me with my hands in my cookie jar? I’m honestly not shy, but I don’t know my morning lover, so do I care? Not in the slightest.
My fingers traced the pattern of a lover over my flesh, prickles of lust rising in their wake. I imagined his touch on my skin, the way he would take the remnants of the night before the lower he moved. Spreading my legs only a tiny bit, I bit my lip as my fingers teased the source of my heat. Still sleeping, my lover never moved an inch, but I felt as though he was watching me each time I closed my eyes to allow my body to escape into my bed of self-discovery.
As my breathing quickened, my fingers pushed deeper into the puddle of honey between my thighs. My own creation because of the condom wrapper from the night before lay on the nightstand. I might be reckless, but I’m not stupid.
Dipping deeper, I knew that if I was quiet, I could cum without this man even knowing, but wouldn’t it be better if it was him touching me? Too messy to have a second round with a stranger, though I wished for once that I wasn’t so scared of commitment. I was almost panting when the voice to the left of me stopped me dead in my tracks.
“Now, what do we have here this morning? Bad girl playing without me? I really should spank you for that,” he said.
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